Death & Dean
This theme is related to 'all hell breaks loose', although I didn't actually KNOW that 'til the very end. In fact I didn't even know whose POV I was writing for in the beginning. Seriously I hadn't planned this at all. I think the plot panda in my brain just felt like being an irritating dick for no apparent reason.
You see, *life story warning* I was just in the kitchen, scooping out some ice cream, getting ready to sit down and watch House, when all of a friggin sudden this stupid fic rushes into my head and completely overwhelms me. So I hesitate for like 2 minutes not doing anything at all, trying to decide whether to write or eat ice cream and watch House.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Supernatural, but alas, it was not meant to be.
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I'm not afraid of death.
And I know I should be, believe me, I know I should. Just the thought of it should freak me out, because the uncertainty and the unknown are two things that together can drive a man insane. But death doesn't scare me, I've slipped out of it's grip so many times now that I'm not even sure if I'm alive.
I see death everyday. Every. Day. I follow death as it travels around the country, around the world; I follow it, like some kind of mad man with a shotgun and some salt, like some kind of freak with an addiction to the sight of blood, guts, and brain bits splattered all over walls and carpets. I seek it out and I fight it, I fight with death and I win. Most of the time anyway.
I see bad things die, hell, I make bad things die. I see the deaths of things that are evil, of things that are dark, of things that are deserving. I witness the lives of good people, innocent people, stolen before my very eyes, before they were ready. I've seen people die before they've lived.
The lives that I can't save are the lives that are taken and that's on me; that's always gonna be on me. My shoulders are heavy but I will not bow down, I will not submit, I will not cry and close my eyes and pray that death leaves me alone. I am not afraid.
Death. I see it, I hear it, I taste it, I despise it, but I do not fear it. There will be love, peace and all things holy down in hell before even a hair rises on the back of my neck in the face of death. I will not fear it.
Why should I be afraid to die? Everybody has to go sometime right? No one gets to choose when they go, no one gets to decide how they go. Death just takes them, maybe because of some overall master plan, or maybe just for the fun of it - just for kicks - but it doesn't matter because you can't stop it. I can't stop it.
I'm not afraid to die, but I'm terrified of dying. Slowly, painfully, agonisingly. I don't want to feel the warmth of blood soaking through my shirt; I don't want to feel the droop of my eyelids, or the shortness of my breath, or the constriction of my throat. I don't want to suffocate, or drown, or die in some other horrible, gruesome way. I don't want to have to look into my brother's eyes and see that he's giving up on me, that he knows I'm not gonna make it. I don't want to hear Sammy's heart wrenching sobs, or his pleads, or his screams.
I want to die without dying.
But I don't ever get what I want, and that's just life.
It's not death you should be afraid of – it's life. I'm afraid of life. I'm afraid of my next step, my next painful memory, my next breath. I wake up and I'm scared. I'm scared because evil lurks around every corner; I'm scared because shadows walk in my footsteps; because if I fail somebody dies. And that's on me.
That's always gonna be on me.
Life can destroy you, it can taunt you and ruin you and break even the strongest of men. Life is filled with tears and pain and heartbreak; it's always out to get you, no matter who you are. No one's life is ever peaceful or untroubled, no one ever lives happily, and nobody's ever satisfied with what they have or who they have or why they have it. Life is full of questions that won't ever be answered, it's full of mystery and misery and malice and at some point in our lives, we all want to die.
Life is hard and death is easy, but dealing with death is hard so try explaining that one to me?
Death is easy. Sometimes all you've gotta do is just shut your eyes and you're gone, just like that. But it's also unfair and cruel and mocking; sometimes it takes everyone you ever had and leaves you by yourself just to see what you'll do. Like some kind of twisted experiment. Like it's all just a game.
I'm not afraid of death, I'm just afraid of what death takes.
Death has a way of taking pieces of you and burying them with the ones you love, leaving you broken, and desperate, and alone. Living when someone else dies…it almost kills you. The pain of losing family, or friends, or the person you thought you would have forever and a day to be with - it eats you up, tears at you. Slowly, painfully, agonisingly… you die.
And every second of every minute of ever hour is filled with pain, a pain lodged so deep that it becomes just another part of you, a replacement for the pieces you lost when death came and went.
Tears are no good, they don't make it hurt less, and they can't erase the memory of cold, dead faces, looking down on you in your dreams. Tears don't relieve the pain, and alcohol only numbs your brain – not your heart.
"Something big is going down. Like, end of the world big."
"Then let it end."
Apologies spoken to a corpse are just words wasted in the dark, heard by no other soul except your own.
When I screamed at my little brother, my baby brother, when I asked him what I should do, and when I heard nothing except the sound of my own heartbeat…that's when I realised death could kiss my ass.
So I brought Sammy back. There was no place in this universe that death could take him, where I would not find him. I wouldn't lose him, so I found him, I saved him.
I'm afraid of life, of shadows and the dark and getting out of bed. I'm afraid of what death takes from me, I'm afraid of the way death is used by evil to inflict pain and suffering upon the innocent, and I'm afraid of dying.
But I'm not afraid of death itself, because I conquered it with a kiss.
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I love dark, gruesome, heart wrenching, soul destroying fics because I am just so totally twisted and evil like that.
I chose the title Death & Dean, because at the very end I realised that with the word Death, all you have to do is take away the 'th', add an 'n', and what do you get?
And if you don't get the whole 'conquered death with a kiss' because you're not a die hard supernatural fan and you don't know these things, in all hell breaks loose Dean makes a contract with a demon to bring Sam back in exchange for his soul and to seal the contract they have to kiss.
I'm gonna shut up and go now…please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cumon, all it takes is a couple of smiley faces to make my day; I'm easy like that…xxx
PS. To everyone waiting for a new Fire & Ice update, BEFORE you come running after to me with pitch forks and frying pans I just want you to know that it should be up in at LEAST two days!